Recovery pt1
by TheNamesBeef
Summary: Chapter 1, after the betrayl of General Shepard Ghost and Roach lay dead. From afar lay two more soldiers. Loyal to the 141 and not Shepard. They decide to rescue Ghost and Roach. Will they suceed or die trying?
1. Chapter 1

Recovery

Sargent Gary 'Roach' Sanderson grasped Ghosts shoulder, steadying himself while staggering towards the evacuation helicopter. He smiled as he saw General Shepard strode out of the chopper, his hands reached out to Roach. 'Do you have the DSM?' Roach nodded and reached into his chest rig and pulled out the DSM. He handed it to Shepard who smiled. 'Sir, Roach needs immediate medical attention.'

'Time to cut loose ends…' the general said to himself.

'SIR! Can you hear me?' Ghost shouted.

Shepard smiled and whipped out his Magnum, he fired a single round at Ghost, the bullet sunk into his chest and knocked him to the floor. 'No,' Roach managed to rasp. He threw himself at Shepard. Bang. Roach grunted, clutching his chest. Blackness consumed his vision and he fell.

The next time he opened his eyes he saw two other 141 soldiers, Roach growled, 'Why are you helping Shepard?'

One soldier looked at him and said, 'We were always under the Generals orders,'

Roach blinked and lost consciousness again.

He woke again to feel gasoline being poured onto his whole body, 'Bastards,' he swore, he looked up to see Shepard. He stood on above Roach and smirked. He sucked deeply into his cigarette, mocking him. Roach groaned and raised his right hand at him; all his fingers went down; all except for his middle one. 'Fuck you,' he said, and closed his eyes.

Archer swore as he saw all the events unfold through his sniper scope. 'Shepard betrayed us.' He said in a steely calm voice. Toad nodded, 'I thought so, that bastard,' He picked up his Magpul ACR (adaptive combat rifle) with an acog sight and ran down the hill. 'Where are you going?' Archer asked. 'I'm going to see if I can save them. If not, I'm going to at least give them a proper funeral.'


	2. Chapter 2

Recovery Part 2

The night was cold in Southern Russia, inside the Orlav forests an owl hooted spookily. An ice cold draft of wind blew into the small rundown cabin, its occupants shivered with cold. Three people lived in that house: an old lady, an ancient man and a young boy in his mid-twenties. There were three knocks on the wooden door. The wood creaked at the strength of each knock until it looked like it would collapse into splinters. The young man stood up from his wooden chair and drew a wicked looking knife, its edges sharp enough to cut through a man with a single swipe.

"Who is it?" asked the old woman her beady eyes flashing at the windows and door.

There was no reply, just the cold wind whistling outside. The young man looked at the old wrinkly face of the lady. She nodded and he took careful, slow steps towards the door. His knife poised up in front of him, he swung the door open and leapt out screaming a battle-cry.

The door slammed shut behind him and there was silence.

The old man got up, his joints creaking as he took slow painful steps. He reached beside his old armchair and picked up his Baika MP 153 pump action shotgun. He slotted in 12 gauge shells with slow efficiency. He placed the final shell and loaded the gun. Chuck chuck. He kicked the door open and raised his gun, ready to shoot at any target. What the man saw made his heart freeze. The young man… His son. Was stabbed in the chest with his own knife. He was placed, sitting down lying on a tree directly in front of the house. He turned around ready to run, but the door slammed shut.

The wind picked up and the old man felt himself shiver. He turned around to see a man in his thirties, dressed in an artic ghille suit and held an American 9mm pistol with a suppressor attached. The old man looked into the face of Archer, his face was full of grime and dirt. Anger laced like poison around the person creating an aura of fear. The old man stepped back and dropped his gun. It clattered to the floor and was still.

"Wh- wh- who are you?" he stuttered,

Archer stared down at him and growled, "Where's he?"

"Please, sir, I have no idea what you're talking about," the man replied, his voice full of fear.

Archer smiled; it wasn't at all a nice smile. It was a smile you give something just about you're about to kill someone. Archer leapt at the man. They both fell into the snow with a small, pushhh as snow flew into the air and settled down slowly like feathers.

Archers hand grabbed the old mans face and pulled. There was the sound of stretching rubber and the mask ripped revealing a Russian man in his forties, his face full of malice and fear.

"Bastard American," the Russian spat, "You would never get anything from me!"

"Then good-bye Viktor Tarasov," Archer raised his gun and fired.

Viktor's eyes were wide open with shock as the 9mm parabelum round smashed in-between his eyes and went through his brain like a knife through butter.

The old lady's eyes widened as she heard the commotion outside. She ripped off her mask revealing a stunning lady, in her mid thirties with long billowing black hair. Her brown eyes were full of fear as her eyes dashed around the house, trying to find a secret exit that she knew didn't exist. She fumbled in her pockets and pulled out an earpiece. She pressed a button on her phone and the mobile dialled a number.

"Come on," She cursed in Russian as she got the voice mail message.

The door opened slowly, with a creak. Archer stood in the doorway, looking like everyone's nightmare. He flung in the dead body of Tarasov and growled,

"Where is he?"

The young woman stared fearfully into the eyes of Archer who replied with an icy cold stare. She reached into her holster located behind her chair and whipped out a pistol, an American M1911. She held it out ready to fire… But Archer shot first.

Archer kicked the dead corpse off the chair and picked up the earpiece. He looked at the floor and saw the phone. He picked that one up too and called. This time the caller picked up, his voice was full of anger and evil.

"I've talked to your friend, Captain Price. You want General Shepard dead too I presume,"

"Yes, I do. The bastard betrayed us," Archer replied, clutching his fists.

"Very well, you owe us now. Shepard will be dead in six hours."

The phone went dead. Archer swore and threw away the phone and earpiece. He reached for his walkie-talkie and said,

"It's all clear, hostiles eliminated. Bring in the zombies,"

"Copy that Archer bringing in the zombies," Toad replied, his voice strained as he picked up the two bodies of Ghost and Roach.

Archer collapsed into a chair and closed his eyes. Non-stop traveling finally caught up with him and he fell asleep instantly. The pistol slipped from his hand and fell to the floor with a soft clatter of metal on wood.


	3. Chapter 3

Recovery pt.3

**Operation: Loose Ends Evac Point**

**Several Hours Earlier**

The sky was turning grey, signalling the coming of rain. Toad cursed silently to the sky… Even the weather was against the, now. He jumped of the final boulder and ran to regroup with Archer. When he arrived he saw Archer swearing and smashing his fists into a tree.

"God-dammit!" He cursed as he sent another fist into the tree.

Toad lay a comforting hand on Toad's shoulders,

"It's not your fault," He said comfortingly.

"Yes.. It… Is…" He said angrily through gritted teeth.

He roared into the sky with anguish,

"If I took the shot and killed Shepard, they would still be alive!"

He collapsed to the floor, tears streaming from his eyes.

"Look, if you took the shot. Those traitors would have shot Ghost and Roach themselves and then they would have gone for us! We won't even be here right now!" Toad said firmly.

Archer looked into the warm eyes of Toad and nodded. He looked down to the floor and sniffed.

About five metres away, there was a grunt and the sound of rasping breathing. Archer stood up and looked at the pit where Ghost and Roach lay.

"Toad… You hear that?" He asked

"Yep, they're still alive!"

Toad ran for his two friends, he saw Ghost trying to get up. Toad pushed Ghost pack down gently

"Don't get up my friend, you're injured," He said kindly,

He turned to Archer,

"Quick! Get me my med pack in the rucksack!" He ordered,

Archer grabbed a medium sized red box with a white cross in the middle. He handed it to Toad who immediately went to work,

"Oi, Archer go check Roach, see if he's still alive!" Commanded Toad

Archer nodded and checked Roach's neck, he could feel a very faint pulse. It was barely existent but it was there. Archer said a silent prayer to God and turned to Toad,

"Roach is alive, but I don't know for how long… I think you got to check up with him,"

Toad nodded and took out a bottle of alcohol and bandages. He was at work, cleaning off wounds and bandaging them. He then went to work, extracting the .44 magnum round and said, "He'll be alive, if we can get him some shelter and rest,"

Archer sighed a relief and hefted Ghost over his shoulders.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing!" Exclaimed Toad,

Archer pointed up to the sky,

"It's gonna rain, we got to find shelter," he replied, the coolness of a professional sniper coming back to his voice.


End file.
